


Designing Woman

by ThirdGenerationRockette



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Apartment Fic, F/M, Interior Design, Post S2, pre S3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 09:34:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13738056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirdGenerationRockette/pseuds/ThirdGenerationRockette
Summary: Will opens the door and the first thing she realises is just how damn tall he is, only the internal reminder that this is work and she wants to make a good impression stopping her from screeching it right into his incredibly handsome and TV-perfect face.





	Designing Woman

She's early, she's almost embarrassingly early, so she crosses the street and heads for the park, deciding that even though it's a cold Saturday in March she's unlikely to freeze to death if she spends ten minutes killing time on a bench. Sitting down, she checks her bag for the hundredth time; tile samples, fabric samples, paint shades, yep, all there, just like they were the first ninety- nine times she looked. When she starts to lose feeling in her hands even through her gloves, she laughs at her uncharacteristic bout of nerves and stands up, deciding that showing up a few minutes early is better than showing up with frostbite.

It isn't that she's star-struck exactly, working in high-end interior decorating in Manhattan cured her of that pretty quickly, but she will admit to being pretty excited about this particular job. It's Will McAvoy, after all, and he's her favourite TV guy, there's just something about him, an air of intelligence and confidence that's undeniably attractive, not hindered by the fact that he wears a suit really, _really_ well. She's intrigued too by his fiancée, and she's looking forward to meeting the woman who tamed one of New York's hottest prospects and who, by all accounts, is quite the match for him. A Google search turned up a real mix of images, from obvious corporate head shots, to candids from the Middle East, right through to her looking frankly fucking gorgeous in formal wear with Will at ACN's New Year's Eve party, and a read of her Wikipedia page made it blatantly clear she's just as intelligent and interesting as her fiancé. Pulling out her compact, she checks her make-up, takes a deep breath and presses the buzzer for their apartment.

Will opens the door and the first thing she realises is just how damn tall he is, only the internal reminder that this is work and she wants to make a good impression stopping her from screeching it right into his incredibly handsome and TV-perfect face.

"You're Meghan?" He smiles and moves aside for her to step into the apartment, and she smiles back.

"Yeah, that's me, hi." She notices his eyes, even bluer somehow than they look on TV. 

"Will," he says, holding out his hand and shaking hers firmly. "Good to meet you."

"You too. Really good to meet you, I just want to say I love your show, I watch every night," she says, aware she's on the edge of gushing. "I mean, almost every night, you know."

"Sure." He nods, moving to close the door behind her. "Thanks, almost every night is good enough for me."

"I have to go, Mum, I'll call you soon, okay? Yes, I know, I will." A tall, slim brunette in jeans and a fitted blue sweater walks in, Mackenzie, she guesses. Her phone to her ear, she shoots an apologetic smile in their direction. "Alright, I'll tell him. Yeah, love you too."

She takes the chance to look around the room, the bare walls, exposed wiring, total lack of furniture but a huge TV on the wall. The view is as impressive as she expected, it's exactly what a top floor corner apartment really should offer, and she's already picturing window seats of some kind, along with big, luxurious curtains to showcase the windows. Thinking about how the exterior of the building looks, she guesses the master bedroom comes with the same wide, high windows and she starts to consider a similar theme but in lighter colours before she's even seen the room.

"Hi, you must be Meghan. I'm Mackenzie, it's lovely to meet you, thanks so much for squeezing us in on a Saturday morning, we're really grateful." Despite all her Googling efforts and the details on Wikipedia about where she went to school, not to mention that she was literally _just_ talking on the phone when she walked into the room, the accent catches her by surprise, and she's still processing it when she walks over and shakes her hand with a smile. "Sorry, I've been trying for at least ten minutes to get off the phone, but once my mother starts talking there's really no stopping her."

"Oh, that's fine, no problem, really," she says, smiling back at her, watching as she turns to Will.

"Before I forget, you need to call my dad later." Mackenzie says, looking up at her fiancé whose eyes are fixed firmly on hers. "Apparently he needs to talk to you about football?"

"It's not football season," Will says, and she watches as Mackenzie frowns slightly.

"Well, that's what my mum said, I don't know." Mackenzie shrugs and she watches the expression on Will's face as he looks at her, so far from the serious news man she's used to watching that he almost looks like a totally different guy. "Maybe it's football season there?"

"Ah, yeah, soccer, that makes sense." Will nods and squeezes Mackenzie's shoulder gently.

"Same thing," Mackenzie says, clearly not a sports buff, because even she knows football and soccer are not the same thing, not at all.

"Could not be more different," Will says, shaking his head but seeming to suddenly remember he and Mackenzie aren't alone in the room and apparently deciding not to push it any further. "But yeah, I'll call him later, honey."

There's something about seeing serious journalist Will McAvoy completely and utterly smitten by his admittedly beautiful fiancée that makes her wish she was here to profile them for People magazine rather than to pull out tile samples and extol the virtues of duck egg blue over sea green, because hell, these two are fascinating. Mackenzie turns to her and smiles, a kind, genuine smile that reaches her eyes, unlike so many of her clients, or unlike so many people in general, actually.

"How about I put on some fresh coffee and you can ask whatever you need to ask about this giant renovation project we've thrown ourselves into?" Mackenzie asks, pointing to the corner of the room where, despite there being no kitchen in sight, there is a coffee machine and some mugs on the floor.

"Sounds great, thank you," she answers, watching as Mackenzie heads for the machine and Will pours water into it from a huge bottle he pulls from the same box as Mackenzie reaches into for the coffee. "I guess I should start with making sure I have all the basic information correct, if that's okay?"

"Of course, shoot," Mackenzie says, scooping coffee into the machine and setting it to brew before gesturing at three upturned buckets, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry, these are the closest we have to chairs right now."

"Oh, yeah, that's fine." She sits down and pulls out her notepad before putting her sample bag down beside her, glad she opted for jeans and boots and not something that would have made sitting on a bucket wildly impractical. "So, what I have here is...three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, kitchen, living room, dining room. You've already started with contractors working on the wiring and the plumbing, is that right?"

"Yeah." Mackenzie nods from where she's sitting down on the bucket opposite, Will sitting beside her. "We figured we could probably cope with living on a construction site if we could at least have water and power."

"You're going to be living here while the work is being done?" She's surprised, mostly because she can't recall ever going to meet a client of their calibre who hadn't already moved themselves into one of Manhattan's many swanky hotels.

"See, every single person we tell has the same reaction." Will turns to Mackenzie, the look on his face one of someone who just scored a well needed winning point. "Why we don't just move into a hotel, I really don't know."

"You know why," Mackenzie says, sighing faintly as she looks up at him. "I want it to be _our_ project, Billy, and I want us to be able to do as much of it ourselves as we can. Not the wiring or any of that, obviously, but you know, the rest of it."

Billy. Never in a million years would have figured Will McAvoy as a 'Billy', but when it comes out of Mackenzie's mouth it sounds like the only name he should ever be called. She makes a mental note to call her mom, swear her to secrecy, and tell her, because she will flip her shit over this one, Billy fucking McAvoy.

"I know, and my complaining is only half-assed, you know that," he answers, sliding his hand over to Mackenzie's leg as he does, his hand huge on her knee as he looks back over at her. "So yeah, we're living here while we renovate, but if the mattress we're currently sleeping on starts to screw up my back, I have a vague recollection of my fiancée agreeing to a hotel, which she may or may conveniently _not_ remember."

"I stand by that," Mackenzie says, smirking at him and squeezing his hand as his fingers roam over her leg. "But you seem to be doing just fine on the mattress so far."

The tone of Mackenzie's voice gives the distinct impression that she's not complimenting Will on his sleeping skills, because really, why would managing to _sleep_ successfully on their mattress be even a little bit noteworthy? Oh God, she shouldn't have let her brain go there, because now she's not only thinking about Will being a Billy in private but about exactly what they're managing to do just fine on their makeshift bed. Focus, Meg, focus.

"Okay, so maybe we should think about starting work on the bedroom first?" she says, smiling nervously when they both look across at her, hoping desperately that if she's blushing they'll chalk it up to coming in from the March cold. "I mean, the electrics and the water are being worked on, and they primarily affect the bathroom and the kitchen, so we could make a start on what how you think you might want the bedroom and make that a priority in terms of decor and soft furnishings."

"If it'll stop someone here worrying about his poor, creaky old back then that sounds like a great idea to me." Mackenzie smiles and squeezes Will's hand before she stands up. "I'll pour us some coffee and we can show you the bedroom, if that works for you?"

She stands in the corner of the master bedroom, standing with her back against the wall so she can take in the full space, the light, the dimensions, the potential. It's a big, bright, airy room, and she was right about the windows, if they're letting in this much light on a winter morning, it's going to be the most beautiful space in summer. There's definite scope for window seats if they want them, and there's a perfect alcove just waiting for a bed, which again reminds her that they're currently sleeping on a mattress, on a bare, stripped floor. Will McAvoy, flagship anchor for ACN, sleeping on a mattress, and the funny thing is she gets the sense that despite his grumbling he'd sleep on the floor with nothing but a blanket if it was what Mackenzie wanted.

"This is a _great_ room," she says, smiling at them both. "The light is amazing, those windows are perfect. I think window seats would work so well in here, if that might be of any interest, and I'm sure you can see already that there's an alcove there just made for a queen sized bed, possibly a king, actually. Do you have any thoughts on flooring? Wooden, carpet?"

"Carpet. Definitely carpet," Will answers instantly, looking at her but gesturing towards Mackenzie. "She has the coldest feet in the world, I'd never cope with the thirty years of complaining that would come with wood flooring."

"I'd take exception to that but he's right," Mackenzie says, shrugging. "Carpet, for sure. Oh, and the window seats? I _love_ that idea, the windows were one of the features that totally sold me on this place, so it would be lovely to be able to use them like that."

"Great, I have two carpet samples, both neutral, nothing crazy," she says, opening her bag and pulling out the samples, handing them to Mackenzie. "We always suggest you don't channel any crazy into carpet colours. Curtains and bed linens are much easier to replace when boredom sets in."

"Guess you'll have to save the lime green carpet for your walk-in closet," Will says, nudging Mackenzie's shoulder and taking one of the samples out of her hand. "This one's nice."

"And this one?" Mackenzie holds up the other sample, and she watches as Will frowns slightly, his reaction apparently anticipated perfectly by his fiancée. "You're about to say they look exactly the same, aren't you? Shall I just pick one?"

"I wasn't about to say that, but sure, whichever one you like is fine, honey, really." He gives Mackenzie yet another sweet, indulgent smile, and God, it's adorable. "You're the one whose freakishly cold feet need this carpet."

"I like the slightly darker one," Mackenzie says, prodding Will in the chest and grabbing the sample back from him. "And maybe your feet are freakishly _warm_ , did you ever consider that?"

"Not for a second, no." He smiles a little wider at Mackenzie before turning to her and nodding. "The darker one is fine with me."

And so it goes. Mackenzie makes a choice, she asks Will for an opinion, he appears to consider it before he inevitably agrees with her, an agreement usually accompanied by a smitten smile. Briefly she wonders if she'll ever watch News Night again without being completely distracted by the thought of how very different its anchor is away from the camera. She takes some measurements, notes down some preferred colour schemes and promises to be in touch with some options for window seats and matching curtains, before they move onto the master bathroom. Laying out a selection of tiles, she stands back and waits as they both look them over.

"Now, I know how much you like a long, luxurious shower, Billy, so I _know_ you're going to have an opinion on this," Mackenzie says, her tone, her mention of long showers, and her use of 'Billy' once again conjuring up thoughts about her clients that aren't entirely appropriate. "So, what do we have here? Alright...six options, so I'll choose two, you choose two and we'll narrow it down from there?"

"What do you think the chances are that we'll choose the same two?" he asks, glancing at Mackenzie and then back at the tile samples.

"I guess we'll find out." Mackenzie grins over at her before turning her attention to the tiles. "Alright, I like this one, and I _love_ this one."

"I agree with that one, but I prefer this one over your second one." Will looks proud of himself for having actually made a choice, even though she's certain again that Mackenzie's favourite will win out.

She lays out the chosen tiles and starts to collect the remaining ones, knowing from experience that the more options she gives people, the more confusion it causes. Remove the unnecessary temptation, she was told when she started in this business, it's a good rule, and it's always worked for her so far. She watches as Mackenzie runs a finger over the one she picked as her favourite, a frown of concentration on her face, her gaze shifting to one of Will's choices, and she seems to discard all but those two, putting them side by side and turning to him.

"You know, I think I actually like this one," Mackenzie says, surprising her (and Will too, judging by his raised eyebrows) pointing at the one he picked, although the sigh she follows it up with doesn't suggest complete certainty. "Oh, but there is something about this shade though too."

"Yeah, it's nice." Will sounds non-committal and she knows what he's about to say even before the words make it out. "I like them both, I really don't mind which we go for."

"Right, so you let me choose the carpet for the bedroom, the colour for the window seats, the pattern for the curtains, I'm starting to wonder if you're planning on living here with me at all, and if you are it would really be nice if you could actually make a decision on just one thing." Mackenzie sighs again and turns to him, her arms folded, and she wonders if she's about to be caught right in the middle of a client fight. Not that it would be the first time, but still...

"I'm not _not_ making a decision, Mac, I'd tell you if I hated any of them," he says, his voice level and, to her relief, definitely not sounding like he's spoiling for a fight. "I genuinely am fine with whichever you like best."

"What if I stand here and point blank refuse to pick one? What then?" Mackenzie doesn't sound like she wants to fight either, she just sounds like she really wants Will to just make a damn choice. "Would you make a decision then or will all three of us die in this shell of an apartment, never knowing just how beautiful it would have looked had we finished the renovations?"

"My fiancée here," he says, turning from Mackenzie and grinning in her direction. "Not dramatic in the slightest."

"I'm serious," Mackenzie says, pushing the tiles towards him. "I like them both, I _really_ like them both, but I just want you to choose one thing, I want us not to be fighting in ten years about something else and for you to suddenly yell at me that you've always hated the bathroom tiles, because that's really going to annoy me, like, ridiculously."

"Fine, but I swear to God, honey, if I choose one and you _still_ tell me you prefer the other one, we are starting this whole process over and I'm vetoing every choice you've made so far, just because," he says, holding a finger up when Mackenzie is about to reply. "And yeah, I'm well aware I sound like a petulant kid right now."

"Yes, you do." Mackenzie says, but there's a hint of a smile threatening her lips, and she seems to relax slightly. "So?"

"Alright," he says, pausing for a second, picking up one tile, then the second, holding them up and looking at them closely. "What the hell colour do they call this?"

"Um, I think that one's Julep, but the name should be on the back," she says, watching as he turns it over and nods.

"This is the one I like." He holds it up and the smile Mackenzie gives him is dazzling, especially considering all he did was choose between two tiles, but hell, happy clients make for happy decorators.

"Julep it is then." She smiles at them and packs away the other tiles, pleased with their choice, it's a good shade and it's going to look great.

*

She gets in touch with the contractors who are going to work on the master bathroom, and they agree to call and let her know when they’re done, so she can arrange to start on the bedroom. She sets the ball rolling on the orders for the furnishings, Will and Mackenzie approve the window seats, and she has promised dates for when everything should be ready. On the day she gets the call to say the contractors are finished and clear of the apartment, she also gets confirmation that the carpet, curtains, and window seats can be delivered, with the bed to follow the next day. An afternoon of back to back clients means she doesn’t have a moment to call and let Will and Mackenzie know that she can start moving her team in whenever is convenient for them, and just as she does finally find five minutes and is about to make the call, a news alert comes in that she has to read three times before she can believe it; Will McAvoy has been sent to prison.

Making the assumption that Mackenzie is not going to want a call this evening, she goes home and turns on the TV, watching the report that says Will was given the option to reveal a source, refused, was told he had no choice, refused a little more so is now in prison until he rethinks his stance. Her first thought is that it’s impressive, it’s a decision based on integrity and honour, and her second is that Mackenzie must be devastated.

At nine the next morning, she takes a breath, steels herself, and picks up the phone, caught slightly off guard when the call is answered right away.

“Meghan, hi.” Mackenzie starts, sounding slightly subdued, unsurprisingly, but her tone as friendly as always. “How are you?”

“I’m good, thanks, I’m…I wanted to say I was sorry to hear about Will,” she says, wincing as she wonders if that was the right thing to say, or if she shouldn’t have said anything. “How are you?”

“Oh, thanks. I’m…we didn’t quite think it would come to this, or at least Will certainly didn’t,” Mackenzie says, sighing faintly before going on. “Anyway, we are where we are for the moment, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I had a call from the contractors to say the bathroom is all done, so I just wanted to let you know I can have my guys start with the carpet fitting whenever is good for you.” She pauses, realising it’s quite possible the least convenient time right now. “I understand, of course, if this isn’t a good time, there’s really no great hurry-“

“It’s a great time, actually.” Mackenzie cuts in quickly. “I could really use the distraction, or something to focus on, I guess, and I’d...well, I'd kind of like us to have the bedroom done by the time Will comes home.”

“Perfect,” she says, opening the calendar on the screen in front of her. “What I thought I’d do, if it’s okay, is come over and take a look at the bathroom now it’s finished, and then we can sit down and work out a start day for the bedroom. When might be good for you?”

“That sounds great, thank you,” Mackenzie replies, sounding slightly brighter, perhaps spurred on by the idea of finally sleeping in a bedroom that no longer resembles a work in progress, or maybe knowing Will can expect to come home and sleep in a real bed. “Do you have any early appointments over the next couple of days? Around eight thirty or nine?”

“I actually have an appointment at ten tomorrow not too far from your place,” she says, double checking the calendar to confirm. “How about I come to you before I head over there? Around eight thirty, eight forty-five?”

“Sounds great,” Mackenzie says. “I’ll see you then.”

She’s outside the door at just a few minutes past eight thirty, and Mackenzie opens it almost as soon as she buzzes, giving her a tired smile in the way of a greeting as she stands back to let her in. Her hair and make-up are perfect, her skirt and shirt immaculate, but there’s a weary look in her eyes that wasn’t there when they last met, and a concern behind her smile that she can't hide.

"Hi Meghan. Come in, please, I just made coffee.” Mackenzie walks through to the almost finished kitchen, finished enough that there’s a usable surface and a power socket for the coffee machine. “Actually, why don’t I show you the bathroom first and then we can have a coffee while we figure out the details for getting the bedroom finished?”

The bathroom looks fantastic, the tiles work perfectly with the lighting they chose, and the three jet rainfall shower head is to die for, not to mention the size of the shower stall itself. She realises she must have drifted slightly into distracted admiration when she turns to see Mackenzie looking at her with a faintly amused smile on her face.

“Sorry, I was just…” She shrugs, embarrassed but figuring it’s too late to save it now. “That’s a seriously amazing shower.”

“I know,” Mackenzie says, nodding in agreement. “It’s gorgeous, I love it already. And if they ever let my husband out of prison I think he's going to love it too.”

“Oh God, I'm _sure_ he will,” she says, feeling bad all over again for Mackenzie, and only then processing what she just said. “Wait, you guys…you got married? Like, yesterday?"

“Ah, yeah, with all the prison stuff, we somehow managed to keep that little snippet out of the news.” Mackenzie smiles properly for the first time, but she can’t help feeling even sadder for her that this is technically their honeymoon and her husband is behind bars.

“Well, congratulations.” Again, words fail her. Is ‘congratulations’ the right word for someone who got married and then watched her husband as he was hurled immediately off to prison? “That’s really lovely news.”

"Thanks," Mackenzie says, her right thumb instinctively moving to the rings on her left hand, almost as if she's confirming they're still there. "He's about to spend a lot of time in a small room with nothing to do but think. I wanted to have this marriage locked down before he had chance to rethink it."

"Seriously? That is _never_ going to happen!" She feels a blush colour her cheeks as she scrambles to elaborate. "I mean, I know I haven't known the two of you very long at all, and obviously I'm just your decorator but, I mean, any fool with a half decent pair of eyes can see how happy Will was to be marrying you. I'm sure he's ecstatic now you're actually his wife. As ecstatic as he can be given his current situation and all. Shit, I mean-"

"Coffee?" Mackenzie rescues her with a soft smile and a hand on her elbow.

"Yeah, please." She nods, determined not say one more word before engaging her brain first. "I'd love a coffee."

*

She makes sure she chooses the best contractors she knows, she likes Mackenzie and she wants to make sure that even if she barely sleeps a night until Will is home she has a comfortable, finished bedroom to at least try. It takes a little gentle persuasion but they manage to fit the carpet and get the new bed in on the same day even though Mackenzie had insisted it was fine, she'd get a hotel for the night, despite the frown that told her she'd much rather not have to. She gets the clear impression Mackenzie is firmly attached to the apartment already, perhaps was from the very moment she saw it, and it reminds her that this is what she loves so much about her job, helping to turn a new house (or apartment, more commonly, this is Manhattan, after all) into an actual home.

The window seats are next and when Mackenzie emails a photo, she knows instantly it was the right suggestion. She knows too that if it was her apartment, she'd spend the majority of her life curled up on a blanket (and if she was Mackenzie, curled up with _Will_...) gazing out at the view. She starts to think about the rest of the apartment, beyond the living room carpet that was fitted when the bedroom one was and the couches that arrived not long after the bed, there are still two more bedrooms that she's dying to get her hands on. She raises it tentatively with Mackenzie who tells her, understandably if disappointingly, that she doesn't want to do anything else without Will's input, that it was fine with their bedroom and living room because the planning was underway already but that it doesn't feel right making decisions on the other bedrooms alone. Telling her to get in touch when she is ready, which feels like code for 'when your husband gets out of prison', she tells her to take care and reluctantly moves on to focus on her other clients.

When the news alert comes that Will has been released, she spends a few days checking her phone, expecting to hear from Mackenzie any minute to say she has some thoughts and asking if they can meet with her, but there's nothing. Then she reads about Mackenzie's new job and she figures things are probably unbelievably busy and that finishing the apartment has fallen off the radar for now. Another week goes by, then two, and after a month she checks her accounts, sees that they've paid for all the work so far and she assumes they've either decided to put things on hold or, much worse, found a new decorator. She inevitably begins to question whether there was something about her work they didn't like, even though she's certain Mackenzie was more than delighted with the bedroom, and the bathroom too. On her way to meet a new client on a sweltering Saturday morning in August, just as she's finally accepted there are some things she has no control over, the phone rings and a familiar name appears on the screen.

"Hello, this is Meghan," she answers, aiming for cool, probably missing by a country mile.

"Meghan, it's Mackenzie. How are you?" Mackenzie sounds happy, really happy, maybe even happier than she seemed the first time they met.

"Mackenzie, hi! I'm good, thank you," she says, smiling as she can't resist thinking about the two bedrooms in their apartment that are still, as far as she's aware, yet to be finished. "What can I do for you?"

"Firstly, I really should apologise. I know it's been far too long since we've been in touch, it's just been..." Mackenzie pauses, and she resists jumping in, as much as she'd like to. "Well, it's been a pretty insane couple of months, to be quite honest, but we were wondering if you may have any availability at the moment?"

"Um, yeah, I do, actually. Summer is always pretty quiet so you caught me at a really good time." Again, no need to make it obvious that she would move whatever she had to around to finish this job for them. "I'm guessing you're keen to get started on the two remaining bedrooms?"

"You guess right." Mackenzie says, the smile in her voice clear and suggesting she has some ideas in mind already. "Is there any chance you could make Saturday morning, around ten or so?"

"Absolutely," she says, smiling already thinking of that beautiful apartment. "I'll be there."

She knows it’s probably lame but she’s excited to be heading over there, she’s finally over the unexpected feeling of being star-struck that hit her in the beginning, and now she just...well, she _likes_ them. For the choices they’ve made on the apartment, for the fact that they’re direct and know what they want (well, mostly) but they communicate it without being assholes, and because they treat her like a skilled professional with valid experience, not like cheap hired help. It doesn’t hurt that they’re endlessly fascinating together too, the way they somehow manage to bicker while still looking at each other with complete adoration. It’s the first time too that she’ll be seeing them both since the first time she met them, since then of course Will has been…indisposed, so she’s seen only Mackenzie. She’s aware too that this job is close to coming to an end, and she wants to do the best, the most thorough job she can, and not just because if she’s going to branch out and go it alone with her own business in the next couple of years, their endorsement would be invaluable.

It’s Will who opens the door, looking tanned and with a brightness in his eyes that exudes sheer and obvious happiness. Mackenzie appears behind him, looking even healthier, if possible, than he does, a light smattering of freckles across her cheeks and a bright smile on her face.

“Wow, it’s hot out there already this morning,” she says, smiling, hoping she doesn’t look as sweaty as she feels right now.

“Come on in, let’s get you something to drink,” Mackenzie says, smiling and heading for the kitchen, as Will waits and lets her follow. “Something cold?”

“That’d be great, thanks.” She nods and looks around the kitchen, running her hand over the perfect marble countertops, pleased with how the colours and the fittings work perfectly together. “It looks amazing in here, by the way, you have it looking really great.”

“Thank you, we’re _so_ pleased with it,” Mackenzie says, beaming at her, clearly delighted with the finished result. “With everything so far, actually. Thank you again, I know we haven’t been the most present of clients, so we really do appreciate everything you’ve done.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, and really, you’ve been around more than a lot of the people I work for,” she says, realising they’re genuinely unaware of just how easy they’ve been to deal with. “And when you weren’t, you trusted me to carry on, which _definitely_ isn’t always the case.”

“See, maybe you’re not quite the control freak you thought you were, honey,” Will says, smiling at Mackenzie before opening the fridge door. “Meghan, what can I get you? Water, soda, iced tea?”

“Water’s fine, thanks,” she answers, putting her bag down carefully on the counter.

“I won’t waste time asking what you want.” Will smiles a little wider at Mackenzie and hands her a bottle of iced tea. “Meghan, are you sure you don’t want an iced tea? We have at least seven hundred bottles of the stuff in here.”

“We do _not_ have seven hundred.” Mackenzie shakes her head and takes the bottle from him. “I guess not, given the rate you’re getting through them.” Will reaches back in and pulls out a water which he hands over, and she feels like there’s some relevance in the iced tea exchange but she has no idea what it is.

“Now that we have a living room that we love, why don’t we head in there, and we can talk about the rest of the place?” Mackenzie smiles and she nods, picking up her bag again, excited to hear what they may have planned for the two remaining bedrooms.

It’s hard to believe (even though this is what she does for a living) that this bright, welcoming room, with its big, comfortable couches and tempting window seats was lacking in even basic flooring and power sockets not too long ago. She loves what they’ve done with it, she loves that they embraced her ideas and her style suggestions, and she’s really pleased for them that it looks and feels somehow exactly how _their_ living space should. Sitting down on one of the two huge couches, she watches as Will sits down on the other and Mackenzie reaches for his hand, her fingers tangling in his, his thumb roaming tenderly across her skin in response. It’s only when Mackenzie sits down beside Will and the cotton of her shirt shifts slightly that she notices the small yet obvious bump, and the requirement for one of the bedrooms becomes suddenly clear.

“Oh!” It’s not eloquent, she knows that, but Mackenzie seems to realise instantly what her reaction signals, moving her free hand to rest softly on her stomach. “I had no idea, wow, congratulations, you must be so excited.”

“Excited, overwhelmed, God, lots of things, yeah,” Mackenzie says, the smile creeping onto her lips one of pure bliss. “And you’ve managed to keep it out of the press, which is…” She can’t quite believe that Page Six or some other dark haven of gossip hasn’t grabbed hold of this and run with it faster than the speed of light, frankly. “Well, it’s impressive.”

“We really haven't had to try. After Will’s little prison spell, they seem to have lost all interest in us, thankfully.” Mackenzie smiles and reaches for her iced tea. “Well, for the moment anyway. I'm not naive enough to think it's going to last, but it's nice for now."

“Would I be right in thinking you need my help on a nursery?” she asks, smiling, remembering her very first job designing a nursery and how much she loved it.

“I’m placing _almost_ equal importance on my walk-in closet,” Mackenzie says, grinning and squeezing Will’s hand. “But yes, help with the nursery would be great. With my new job and everything, we’ve barely had time to think about it, and then we were nervous about planning it too early, but then I panicked that we were just as likely to leave it too late and end up with the poor baby having to sleep in a basket because his or her stupid parents couldn't get their acts together, and...anyway, yeah, we’d love to get started on it, if you’re able to make some time for us.”

“Definitely, I’d love to,” she says quickly, loving the idea of their baby sleeping in a nursery she helped create. “I know you said you haven’t had much time to think about it, but do you have _any_ themes in mind? Anything you like, anything you definitely don’t?”

“By ‘we’ve barely had time to think about it’, what she meant was there are two themes we can’t seem to settle on,” Will says, eyebrow raised briefly at Mackenzie before he looks back over at her.

“By ‘settle on’, he means I like one, he prefers another, and we can’t agree.” Mackenzie smirks, and there’s a good chance she knows she’ll win this battle, but hell, she doesn’t mind refereeing if that’s what it takes.

“I’m almost afraid to ask, but go ahead, what are you torn between?” she asks, looking at Mackenzie first, then at Will, wondering if one of them has some completely crazy idea and that’s where the problem lies, or if it’s a simple case of two good ideas they just can’t choose between. The latter is easier, she’ll just pick one, they’ll think it’s her seasoned professional opinion, and hopefully that will be that.

“Farm animals,” Will says, pausing briefly and looking at Mackenzie before he continues. “Or zoo animals.”

“Zoo animals.” She and Mackenzie speak at exactly the same time and Mackenzie looks at Will with a hint of triumph in her eyes.

“I’m totally outnumbered, aren’t I?” The look on Will’s face suggests he doesn’t actually mind at all, and she suspects the final outcome is far less important than the fun he clearly has bickering with Mackenzie. She’s certain too that the enjoyment is entirely shared by his wife, sitting beside him, a sweet, content smile on her face.

“Just think, Billy, giraffes, elephants, and tiny little monkeys,” Mackenzie says, her hand moving to squeeze Will’s knee, her smile still in place, her eyes wide as she looks at him and bites her lip faintly. It’s a master class in charm. “That sounds cute, right?”

“I guess animals are animals.” He shrugs but when Mackenzie leans up and kisses his cheek, he can’t keep the smile from creeping onto his face, and it’s clear this war has just been won.

“Alright, then,” she says, smiling at both of them and reaching into her bag for her iPad. “How about we get started?”

Mackenzie leans against Will’s shoulder, her hand still in his, and they both nod. As she starts to scroll through designs to show them, she wonders just how much fun the debate about the walk-in closet is going be…and hell, she can’t wait to find out.


End file.
